


Spelunking

by Stormheller



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: First Times, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-10
Updated: 2013-05-10
Packaged: 2017-12-11 08:38:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 822
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/796150
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stormheller/pseuds/Stormheller
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Short. Sweet. Jim. Blair. Sex.</p><p>IF YOU LIKED THIS STORY... please check out my pro writing. <br/>My gay stories here: http://www.stormgrant.com/<br/>My urban fantasy here: http://ginaxgrant.wordpress.com/the-relucant-reaper-series/<br/>Thank you,<br/>~ Gina / Stormy / Stormheller</p>
            </blockquote>





	Spelunking

## Spelunking

by Stormy

What she said.

Won Best Drama Story award at Senticon 2003. (Tied for first place, actually.)

* * *

Spelunking by Stormy/Stormheller 

Jim had said, "How good are you at climbing trees?" And Blair had climbed the tree. Despite bitchy protests and furtive acrophobia, Blair had climbed that tree and fetched the nest. When Jim'd said, "Climb," Blair'd asked "How high?" 

And when Jim had handed him the gun and said, "Watch her!" Blair had taken the gun and kept an eye on her--mostly--eventually subduing her by force. A sock in the jaw-type force. Despite his issues with guns and violence and hitting anyone, let alone a woman. So he held the gun and he socked the gal and let Taggart take away his videotape. Because when Jim'd said, "Do this," Blair had caved. Caved and said, "Okay." 

And, afterwards. After they'd got the perp and saved the day and the paramedics and the backup and the SWAT team had all done their thing. After Jim has called him "partner," when Jim'd said, "I missed lunch. We're going to Wonder Burger," Blair had caved and said, "Okay." Even though he preferred health food to fast food, and was cutting down on red meat. Blair'd said, "Sure. Let's do burgers. No problemo, man." And he'd ordered what Jim had ordered and put his wallet away when Jim had insisted he'd buy. 

And when Jim'd said, "Come back to my place." Virtually crooned in that gravelly voice that iced Blair's spine and scared the holy crap out of him. Blair'd said, "Let's do it." In his own sexy-husky wine, woman and song voice. Except that it was his wine, _woman_ and song voice and not a wine, _men_ and song voice. Not up to now. Never had been. Never been there, done that nor taken off the T-shirt. 

And when Jim had caressed him, kissed him, pushed him up against the kitchen island and cupped Blair's startled dick through his blue jeans, he's gone with it. Kissed back. Let himself be pushed. Touched. Fondled. Despite his fear. Despite his inexperience, his rawness, his naivet. 

And when Jim had said, "Like that, hmm?" Blair had had no problem with that, answering with gasps and sighs and bucking hips. 

And when Jim had spilled in his hand, Blair's wrist aching from the unfamiliar angle, Blair'd acted cool. Experienced. Adult. And when Jim had asked, "First time with a guy, Chief?" Blair'd laughed and said, "No. 'Course not. Do it all the time." Despite his barely-suppressed craving to charge to the bathroom. To be alone. To peer in the mirror. See if he'd changed. See if it showed. And scrub his hand. 

And when Jim had whispered, "Stay. Stay the night with me." Blair had said, "Yes. I will. I want to." Despite having papers to grade. Tests to plan. A panic attack to avert. 

The morning after. The proverbial morning after. Jim had reached for him and petted his chaotic curls. When Jim had asked to see him again that evening, Blair had said, "Yeah. Okay." 

And when Blair had added, "Pick me up at 7:00, man." Jim had said, "Yes." He'd caved and said, "Yes." He'd be there at 7:00. At Blair's office. At the University even though he had late shift and shouldn't be leaving the bullpen before then. 

And when Blair had said, "We'll get organically-grown groceries. Come back here and cook." Jim had said, "Sure. I'd like that. No problem." Even though he hated health food. Didn't have to try it to hate it. Knew he'd hate it. But okay. Blair'd said. He caved. 

"We can talk over dinner." Blair'd said. And Jim had answered, "Great. Talk. Great." Even though he hated talk, talk about things of consequence. Carolyn had talked a lot; talked them right out of a marriage. But okay. They'd talk. 

And when Blair said, "My car's in the shop. Can you drive me to work?" Jim'd said, "Sure. It's on my way." Even though it was on opposite side of town. Nowhere near the precinct. Entirely out of his way. 

And just before Blair got out of the car, he'd slanted toward the driver's side for a kiss. A restrained, surreptitious kiss. And grinning, said, "See ya tonight, Ellison." And Jim answered, creakily, raspily, "Looking forward to it." And found he was telling the truth. Honestly. Sincerely. 

And when Blair had responded gently, murmuring, "Me, too," he'd surprised himself with his own candor. His forthrightness. His open soul. His open heart. 

"Partners," Jim had said. And Blair'd said, "Are you serious? Excellent!" 

Looks like they'd caved together. 

End. 

* * *

End Spelunking by Stormy: storm_haven@hotmail.com

Author and story notes above.

  
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